A Very Long Summer
by Perfect Mischief
Summary: Postwar. Ginny's Aunt Muriel comes for a visit in the countryside... and apparently, so does Draco Malfoy. What happens when they quite literally collide? R&R, please! I WANT YOU to review my story! Read, Review, get on with it. Seriously.
1. Greetings

Ginny glanced at the coming-of-age watch she had gotten for her most recent birthday. In ten minutes, according to the sparkling watch, her Auntie Muriel would be arriving. Hopefully she wouldn't bring her Bernese mountain dog again... Barbara was more like a small bear than a dog.

"Ginny!" Molly Weasley called up the stairs. "Are you wearing that orange sweater Muriel gave you last Christmas?"

"Yes, Mum. But why do I have to wear it if it's summer?" Ginny hated the thing- the orange clashed dreadfully with her red hair, and the image of a puppy on the front didn't help. Tassels hung limply from the shoulders and lace outlined the collar. There was a -crack- and an obnoxiously loud voice started squawking at Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh, Molly, dear, how nice to see you again. Ooh, my back... Be a dear, get me an icepack. My wand is somewhere in one of these ruddy bags. Ronald! Get down her and help your ol' auntie with her bags!"

Ron trudged down the stairs, Ginny close behind. A loud "Woof!" told her Barbara was indeed here.

"Hi, Auntie Muriel," they greeted in a monotone unison.

Muriel set down her bags. "Come, now, is that any way to greet your poor auntie?" She squeezed them together and pulled them close with her short, plump arms. She planted a large, wet kiss on each of their cheeks, leaving a bright pink stain on them. She looked them up and down. "Ronald, if you keep growing like this you'll never find a good wife. Oh Ginny, you're so grown up, but no man likes a girl with that many freckles. It would do best for you to stay inside and avoid direct sunlight. And why are you wearing that hideous sweater? You look like a moldy pumpkin cake."

Ginny held in a scream. Her mother gave them each a pleading look from behind Muriel, so Ginny subtly put her wand back in her pocket to not tempt herself to hex a certain "ol' auntie".

After an uncomfortable silence, Auntie Muriel handed Ron her bags. "There's a good boy," she said as she spun him in the direction of the stairs and gave him a pushed. Ron grunted.

"Wait, what room are you sleeping in?" he asked.

Molly spoke up. "Ginny's."

"What?!" Ginny shrieked. Her mother gave her a helpless shrug. She was always helpless when it came to Muriel. Ron snickered quietly as he climbed the rickety stairs.

"That's quite an ugly noise you just made. You should try to remain quiet when a man finally comes to court you."

_Court me?! _Ginny cried in her head. _What is this, the fourteenth century? _

"Aunt Muriel, why don't I take Barbara for a walk?" Ginny asked sweetly as she took of her ridiculous sweater. Her aunt had never grasped the concept of sarcasm.

"Her name is Barbara Periwinkle, honey. And yes, she kept farting right before we left, please do walk her. It'd be best if you took a bag for her doggy doo, too. Are you sure you want to take that silly sweater off? You'll just end up with more freckles, dearie."

Ginny hid her grimace and took Barbara's leash and a plastic shopping bag. She was out the door in mere seconds, enjoying the sunshine on her face. She liked her freckles.

As soon as the door of The Burrow had closed behind her, Barbara began pulling Ginny down the path. Ginny had to run to keep up, which only encouraged Ms. Periwinkle to speed up more. They zoomed down a path in the nearby woods that Ginny had explored with her brothers when they were young. Or, _she_ was young, anyways. She saw the distinct outline of a person up ahead and tugged Barbara's leash to slow her down. Barbara dashed on and soon enough she, the dog, and the stranger collided.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Ginny said sincerely. This person now lay on his back, arms tangled over his face. "Need a hand?"

"Hell yes, I need a hand! Look at me, I'm on the ground and covered in dirt! I hate this stupid place, don't see why we had to vacation here, stupid beast of a creature," the familiar voice trailed off into bitter mutters. But Ginny recognized the face, once his arms went to dusting off dirt.

"Malfoy?" she said tentatively.

"Weasley?" he sat up and looked at her, dumb struck. "Another reason to leave. What a shame, you have to live here." He stood up, still brushing off dirt, barely two feet away from her.

Ginny clenched her fist tighter around the leash. "What a shame, you have to live," she muttered, mostly to herself.

Malfoy's eyebrows went up in lazy surprise. He smirked a little as he added, "I heard that."

"You were meant to." Draco's mouth fell the tiniest bit.

And with that, Ginny turned to walk away, Barbara pulling her home. It looked to be a loooooooong summer.


	2. The Dog and the Bees

Ginny was generally a nice girl. She may have had a bit of a temper, especially when it came to Aunt Muriel or Ron or anyone with a name followed by "Malfoy." But she was one of the few who would help the person who tripped in the hallway, to push in a forgotten chair at the end of class. Her mother could rely on her to help clean up the dishes or de-gnome the garden. And Ginny sometimes resented this about herself, but it couldn't be helped.

Which was why, after much begging and a bribe of a raise in her meager allowance, she finally agreed to her mother that she would let Muriel sleep in her room.

The very same old hag that was sleeping in her bed right now.

Ginny was grumbling to herself, barely awake, as she tossed and turned on the lumpy couch in the living room. Surely Draco Malfoy never slept on a couch. Which reminded her... where was he sleeping? He had mentioned he was on vacation... but with whom? His parents were still in Azkaban. She was still not sure how he wasn't.

_Now why would I be thinking of tha... _but her thought trailed off, and she fell asleep at last.

--

She awoke to find Auntie Muriel's wrinkled and slightly mustached inches from hers.

"No man likes a woman who sleeps past noon. Unless she's a right tart."

Ginny held down her right hand with her left to prevent herself from smacking the old coot.

"Oh, Gin? You awake? Come and help with the lunch, please," her _dearest _mother said. Ginny could smell chicken noodle soup. Had she really slept that late? She looked at her watch. 12:43. Hmm. Indeed she had.

"Yes, Mum." She had caved way too easily, but she wasn't in the mood for a diva tantrum. She pulled out her wand- she loved using it outside of school. The spoons lined themselves up around each place setting. Muriel had started another rant.

"When I was your age, girls never wore shorts. We always wore below-the-knee ruffly skirts. Oh, now that was fashion. You girls run around in these tiny little things that can barely be called clothing and those hoochy skirts. In my day, the ladies would call you loose and if you ever walked down the streets alone, those Muggle men would-"

"Muriel! Why don't you help serve the soup," Mrs. Weasley interrupted. Ginny sighed in relief.

"Now just a minute, dearie, I've got to feed Barbara her lunch." Barbara had been lying on the carpet in front of the fireplace, but jumped up at the prospect of food. Muriel dug in her hefty purse (quite fitting for the hefty lady) and pulled out three scones and a glass bottle labeled 'butterfly milk'. "Hmm. Sorry, Madame Periwinkle, it appears we're out of mashed potatoes and peanut butter."

Ginny shuddered. Her aunt found a large soup bowl in the cabinets and filled it with the special milk and placed it on the floor, along with the raisin-dotted scones.

"Ginny, dear, could you help then?" said Mrs. Weasley impatiently. Ginny, who had still been staring at Barbara, the dog with the magical digestive track, munching on her scones, went to help her mother.

--

After lunch, Ginny got dressed in her shortest pair of shorts to spite her dearest Auntie, and had the afternoon free to herself. She was eager to get out of the house, with Auntie Muriel commenting on her appearance and Barbara practically suffocating her with nauseating farts.

"Mum, I'm gonna go take a walk. Be back later!" Ginny whispered to Molly. Her mother, who was furiously scrubbing at a pot, nodded grimly and continued to listen to Auntie Muriel's whack-job of a story about her former Muggle lover. _Why am I not surprised she doesn't have kids..._ Ginny thought with a small smile. The door slammed behind her, and a breeze wove between her freckled legs.

She walked down the same path as she had speeded through with Barbara. She was curious if Malfoy would be there, but she didn't worry herself much. She loved this path, with its beautiful scenery and the faint scent of evergreens. Once in the heart of the forest the trail intersected, she sat beneath a leafy elm, resting her head against the bark.

A faint buzzing greeted her ears. She looked up through the branches, her eyes met by a large beehive surrounded by agitated bees. She slowly stood up, trying not to scare them. She started backing away, her eyes never leaving the bees, her right hand firmly grasping her wand.

A yellow and black striped bee landed on her freckled forearm. She gently blew on it to make it leave. She yelped as it stung her and flew away.. Some one snickered from behind.

She looked around but couldn't see anyone. She started backing away from the tree again when she backed into something. "Oof!"

"You seem to have a knack for running into me, Weasley," said a certain blond headed Malfoy.

"And you seem to have a knack for being the world's biggest prat," Ginny sniped as she turned around to face him.

"Looks like we've got a feisty one here," Malfoy muttered to her.

"Whatever. Who are you even vacationing here with?" It was a question she had often thought about.

"Don't worry about it," he replied, looking away.

"You know that only makes me worry more."

"Oh, so you were worried about me?"

"Eh... no."

Draco pushed one of Ginny's stray red locks behind her ear.

"Good." He Disapparated, leaving Ginny standing alone feeling completely bemused.

"Not like I care," she murmured to herself. It was a lie she didn't have to tell.

**A/N So, what do you think so far? Leave a review, whether you liked it or wish I would stop wasting my time writing. And thanks to those TWO folks who've reviewed so far, Starlit (Raisin) Skyes and srivera. Barbara's lunch is a special shout out to my hippie friend, you know who you are. ;)**


	3. Out of the House

"Ginny, hon, you've got more freckles than a pot-bellied pig."

"Um, Auntie Muriel, do pot-bellied pigs even have freckles?"

"Trust me, dearie, yes, yes they do."

Ginny slid her hand down her face, stretching the skin of her cheek down, in an I'm-so-peeved-it-hurts sort of fashion. Muriel didn't miss the gesture, but she did miss the motive.

"Ginny, that makes your face quite repulsive, you know."

"Thanks, Auntie Muriel," Ginny mocked through gritted teeth. It was a good thing Muriel didn't understand sarcasm.

"You're welcome, dearie, but it wasn't a compliment," answered Muriel, a bit confused. The creases in her forehead were more pronounced as her eyebrows knit together. One hand was petting Barbara, the other gently feeling the fuzz above her upper lip. Ginny looked away, completely grossed out. She quickly asked her mother, who finally had Muriel distracted with Ginny and reading her Witch Weekly, if she could go for a walk.

"Ginny, you go for a walk every day. Do you think you could stay home for the afternoon?" She glanced at Muriel. _So I'm not alone with ol' auntie? _Ginny could tell that was secretly implied.

"Please, Mummy?" Ginny whined.

"Ginny, a grown woman does not refer to her mother as 'mummy.' Not if she ever wants to bring her beaux home, that is," Muriel crooned.

"Oh, all right, go on now," Molly consented.

"And bring Barbara, why don't you?"

"Um, no thanks."

And with that, she was out the door.

--

She had sort of been hoping to run into Malfoy again, though hopefully not literally this time. She wasn't sure what he had meant, why it had been "good" she wasn't worried about him. It confused her to no end. She strided quickly, her feet leading the way, her eyes looking up at the trees. She heard a famliar bird call and searched the sky with her eyes, but found nothing, when -kaplunk- she tripped.

"What the-" she looked down, expecting to see a small boulder, instead finding Draco, tying his shoe.

"_Must_ you always bump into me? It's getting quite tedious, Weasley," he drawled.

"Wanna know what's getting tedious? _You're_ getting quite tedious, Malfoy."

"Nice come-back there. Not," he said, standing up fluidly.

"Like that was any better."

There was an awkward silence. They glared at eachother, and if looks could kill, there would have been two dead bodies to dispose of.

Ginny crossed her arms. "So, really, who ARE you staying with? As Mummy and Daddy couldn't join us..."

Ginny bit her lip, worrying she had gone a bit to far. Hurt was visible in Draco's eyes for a fleeting millisecond.

"I told you, don't worry about it. Or does being dirt poor affect your hearing?" He turned and trudged away.

She frowned a bit, feeling a bit guilty for bringing his parents into the whole situation... It was a bit much for her. "Sorry," she called to his retreating back.

He paused for a second, not looking back, and Ginny caught up to him. He looked down at her, confused as to why she would be next to him.

"Really, I am. I shouldn't have said that about your parents." He could tell she was sincere. "But you still shouldn't have insulted my family's wealth. Makes me want to bring back the subject of your parents, to be honest." _The truth hurts, _he thought to himself bitterly. The thought made him smirk.

"I'm here with Blaise's grandfather. He vacations here every summer. Blaise spends his summer at some stupid Quidditch camp where he picks up more girls than Quaffles." Ginny laughed a bit. That sounded like Zabini; he had once even tried to flirt with her, but had ended up with a wicked Bat-Bogey Hex and had left her alone then on. She giggled at the memory.

Draco looked down at the red head and smirked again. She wasn't much shorter than him.

"I don't mean to sound rude, but... why aren't you in Azkaban too?" Ginny asked, looking up at his liquid mercury eyes. They continued down the path, though to where she wasn't sure.

"Ah... the question of the day," Draco answered. "Doesn't everyone want to know?" It was more to himself, and Ginny could see he was having some sort of internal conflict.

He looked straight ahead, his eyes hardening and his eyebrows moving the slightest bit closer together. Ginny noticed and quickly turned her attention to a leafy plant by the side of the path.

He stopped abruptly and looked down at her again.

"And why should I even tell you?" His face was so close to hers she could feel his breath.

Ginny's eyebrows met the middle of her forehead. She was beginning to feel uncomfortable under his gaze. She brought her watch up to her face. "Would you look at that? I have to go..." she said, much too loud.

They stared at each other a moment longer and she suddenly spun and was gone.

_Talk about awkward..._ she thought as she walked inside.

"Oh good, Ginny. You're back. I was beginning to worry you had been kidnapped by a traveling group of pedophiles."

**A/N Hmm… okay, so maybe this isn't a longer chapter. But I think it would have been awkward if I tried to add more. This just seemed a natural stopping place. Leave a review, or I will track you down and force you to TYPE! Ok not really… please don't call the authorities. Tell me whatcha think!**


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